Learning Curve
by KayValo87
Summary: On their first hunt for a werewolf the only thing the Winchesters know for sure is ... babysitters are useless. Protective/Big Brother!Dean, Baby!Sam
1. Chapter 1

**HAPPY BIRTHDAY BABY KATIE!!!!!**

To celebrate the birth of my niece (: Katelyn Hanna, 8 pounds 2 ounces :) and the fact my 2 year old nephew is now a big brother (: Yay Rowan! :) I decided to write a big brother Dean story. Enjoy ...

**

* * *

Chapter 1**

Dean pushed the button on the remote, trying to find something decent to watch. He had been stuck watching Muppet Babies for the last hour and would kill for an episode of Magnum PI. Settling for MacGyver, Dean checked to make sure Sammy was asleep. He two and a half year old brother was pressed against his right side, holding on to Dean's arm which was starting to go numb. Shifting slightly to allow blood flow without waking the toddler, Dean looked around the back of the couch to where his Dad and Uncle Bobby were busy working.

"So, the fur thing is just a myth then?" John asked, loading a shiny handgun.

"Yup." Bobby answered, flipping through a dusty old book.

"What fur thing?" Dean asked quietly.

"Werewolves." John replied, putting his gun down next to his journal.

His dad got up from the table and came over to the couch, smiling wen he saw Sammy.

"Here." He whispered, reaching down for the sleeping boy.

Dean put his free arm protectively over his brother. It wasn't that he thought his dad would hurt Sammy, but he looked so peaceful Dean didn't want to move him.

"It's okay Dad, I got him."

"You sure?"

Dean nodded and John just shrugged, snatching Sammy baby blanket off the bed and laying it over him before returning to the table.

"So, what are you going to do with the boys?" Uncle Bobby asked.

Dean caught his breath. What did he mean 'do with the boys'? Were he and Dad going somewhere? The last time Dad went away with Bobby they got to stay at Pastor Jim's, but he was away on a trip. He even sent Dean a postcard with a picture of a colorful bird on it. Dad wouldn't send him and Sammy all the way there … but he also wouldn't make them stay with a stranger … would he?

"Don't know Bobby." John sighed, and Dean held his breath waiting to here more. "With Jim on a sabbatical I don't have a lot of options."

Yes he did, Dean thought bitterly, leaning over the arm of the couch.

"I can take care of Sammy, Dad." He stated.

Uncle Bobby and John chuckled, earning a dark glare from Dean.

"I'm not joking." He said, reminding himself to whisper so he wouldn't wake Sammy. "I can take care of him, I do it all the time."

"I know you do, Dean," John assured him, coming over to the couch so he could look him in the eye, "and you do a good job of taking care of Sammy-"

"D*&% straight."

John paused for a second and Dean wondered if it was because of what he said, but that didn't make any sense. He must have heard his dad and Uncle Bobby say the same thing a hundred times.

"Where did you learn that?"

Dean rolled his eyes. Grown ups, why do they always think kids can't hear them?

"You, Uncle Bobby, that other friend you talked to but I don't know his name, the guy on the movie-"

"Okay, I got it, just don't say it again."

"Why not? You say it all the time."

"I'm allowed. As I was saying, you take very good care of your brother, but we need a big person around in case something happens."

"But I AM big." Dean argued. "I'm taller then most of the kids in my class AND I just turned seven. What more do you need?"

"Tell you what," John patted his knee and stood up, "when you can see over the steering wheel of the Impala you can stay home with Sammy, until then you get a babysitter."

"But Dad," Dean whined, "I'm not a baby anymore."

"Okay," John smirked, "we'll find you a big-kid-sitter then."

Dean scowled at him and was just about to respond when a small whimper changed his mind. Looking down he saw Sammy scrunch up his little face, tightening his grip on Dean's arm.

"It's okay Sammy," Dean soothed, stroking the top of his head with his free hand. "Just go back to sleep."

After a few seconds, Sammy relaxed and Dean shot his dad a look.

"See? I'm the best at taking care of Sammy." He said confidently.

But that didn't stop John from getting the hotel manager's daughter to come over.

Not even five minutes after his dad left the blond hair teen squatted down in front of Dean who was helping Sammy build a block tower.

"So … when do you go to bed?"

Dean stopped himself from rolling his eyes, instead flashing her one of his special smiles, an idea forming in his young mind.

"Well, I'm a big kid now, so Dad lets me stay up until I get tired, but Sammy goes to bed at eight."

"Okay." She nodded, checking her watch. "What time does he take his bath?"

Dean's eyes narrowed, standing up to his full height of 3'10". There were VERY few people allowed to give Sam his bath and she was definitely NOT one of them. Especially since they usually took their baths together. She may be cute, but there was no way she was gonna give HIM a bath, much less his baby brother.

"I'll do that." He said, imitating John's firm tone.

She blinked and cleared her throat, nervously fiddling with a charm bracelet. Dean smiled inwardly, knowing that he had achieved his desired effect. She may think she was in charge, she may even be twice his age, but Dean had to make it clear that, when it came to Sammy, he was the boss.

"So … what do you want for dinner?"

"Dad ordered pizza." Dean answered, slipping back into his normal tone when he felt a tug on his shirt.

Sammy handed him a block and pointed to the wobbly tower he had built.

"De hep?" He asked, wide eyes peering up at him from under a mop of curls.

"Sure," Dean turned away from the teenager, "Dean help."

"Great." Lisa smiled, pushing herself off the floor and murmuring. "This should be easy."

Dean grinned back, watching Sammy giggle when the added block made the whole tower come crashing down. Those were his thought exactly.

* * *

I'll get the next part up asap. Please let me know what you think.


	2. Chapter 2

Okay, I meant to have this finished yesterday ... and have it be longer ... but it turns out, john is not the easiest person to write as a new hunter.

BTW, I'm sorry for all the typos in chapter one. I found out my niece was born three hours before I was leaving the house, so I had only that long to come up with the plot and write out the first chapter. All things considered, it's not that bad.

Anyway, I hope you enjoy it.

**DISCLAIMER:** I own nothing but a bunch of DVDs. No Winchesters, no Impala, no rock salt filled shotguns ... just the DVDs.

**

* * *

Chapter 2**

John double checked his gun before tucking it under his coat, while Bobby pulled some extra silver rounds out of the compartment they had recently installed in his trunk. The hidden area looked too big to him, holding only some salt, holy water, a silver stake, three large knives, extra ammo, a handful of charms, two shotguns, and a shovel; but Bobby assured him that it would be filled in as little as a year.

"So how do we tell who's infected?" He questioned.

"You want until they turn." Bobby answered.

Oh is THAT all, John thought to himself. Why couldn't everything go like a salt and burn? Research the area, identify the ghost, burn the body, and move on. Then again, when was life ever that easy?

"So what's the plan?" John asked the seasoned hunter.

Bobby pulled a city map out of his pocket, spreading it over the trunk of the Impala.

"Most of the attacks have been happening down town, so we'll start there."

"That's it? We just wander around town hoping to run into this thing?"

He knew they had to find the monster before it hurt someone else, but he didn't like the idea of walking all over town while some ditzy teenager was the first line of defense for his boys … scratch that, Dean would probably more more useful in a crisis then Lisa. She was a nice kid, but something told him Dean was the one with a good head on his shoulders.

"John, this ain't a woman in white," Bobby shoved the map back into his pocket. "It's not going to pick a spot and wait for us to track it down. Werewolves wander, that's the way it is sometimes."

John nodded, thinking back to the jungles of Vietnam. How many times had he gone out, searching for a hidden enemy, stepping carefully so as not to set off a booby trap or land mine? How many lives had been saved or lost because of his actions? He thought he left the war behind him when he and Mary got married. Now, thirteen years later, he's hunting a different enemy … but there's no going home from this fight. Forcing himself to revert back to that solider, the marine who's sole duty was to track down the enemy before it got them, John followed Bobby into the night … but part of him stayed in that hotel room, reminding him just what he was fighting for.

Moving slowly through the streets, John kept an eye out for the creature. From what Bobby had told him they look relatively human, but have sharp claws and teeth with a wild look in their eye. They couldn't think like humans and would attack if they felt threatened … or were just hungry. The only thing the legend got right was the silver bullet.

"How ya doing, John?" Bobby asked, cutting into his thoughts.

"What?"

"You looked like you were somewhere else."

John shook his head, focusing his mind on the here and now.

"I'm fine." He grumbled. "Let's just kill the son of a b^%&$ so we can go home."

"No argument here." Bobby muttered, his eyes scanning the busy streets.

John checked every face he past, looking for any sign of danger, but all he saw were civilians, blissfully unaware of the danger the full moon brought to them. Teenagers mostly, stupid kids who's biggest fear is failing a midterm or choking up when the person they have a crush on says hi. It was his job to make sure that stayed that way, to make sure that nightmares like the thing that killed his wife didn't destroy their lives as well. The beast he hunted tonight had already killed twice, and he would be d^$%ed it he let it get to three.

"John." Bobby whispered, motioning to a nearby ally.

It took only a second to see the the feral shadow moving along the wall. Changing directions, John led the way into the darkened corridor. For a moment he was back in that cursed jungle, nearing the enemy's camp, where one sound could be the difference between life and death … but he was ripped from his memories when a piercing scream shattered the night.

* * *

Next we continue the adventures in babysitting with Lisa and Dean. :)

Please let me know what you think so far. (And I SHOULD have the next chapter up, at latest, tomorrow morning.)


	3. Chapter 3

Okay, here is the next part, just some fluff with the boys. Enjoy.

**

* * *

Chapter 3**

"Look to the sky, Sammy."

Dean waited until Sam tilted his head back before slowly pouring a cup of water over his brother's head, careful not to get any soap in his eyes.

"Look at sky, De." The two year old mimicked, dumping a cup of water over Dean's head.

"Thanks Sammy." Dean smiled, wiping the water from his face.

His baby brother grinned, turning his attention to the bubbles that surrounded his little body, while Dean was just grateful he hadn't put any shampoo in his hair yet. Now that Sammy was clean, he let him splash around while he got cleaned up.

"Look De," Sammy giggled, as Dean rinsed the last of the soap from his hair, "Sammy Santa."

Dean laughed at the white clump dripping off his baby brother's chin.

"You're not Santa, you're too little." Dean teased, wiping the bubbles away and dolloping a bit on the top of each of the toddler's ears. "There, now you're an elf."

"Sammy no elf!" He laughed, rubbing his hands on the sides of his head to erase the bubbles. "De elf!"

Grabbing two fistfuls of bubbles, Sammy put them all over Dean's newly rinsed head. Soon the laughing and splashing escalated to a full on bubble war, until a knock on the door stopped all the fun.

"You two okay in there?" Lisa called.

"We're fine." Dean scowled.

Knowing bath time was over anyway, Dean climbed out of the tub, wrapping his towel around his waist before reaching in for his brother.

"Come on Sammy, time to get out of the tubby."

"No," Sammy pouted, crossing his arms over his chest. "Sammy stay in tubby."

"Sammy," Dean copied the firm tone that Dad always used, "it's time to get out of the tubby."

With a huff, Sammy lifted his small arms to Dean, who pulled the sopping wet toddler from the tub and stood him up in front of him. Wrapping a towel around his baby brother's shivering body, Dean dried him of and got him dress in his night time clothes before pulling on his own pajamas and unlocking the bathroom door.

"You two ready for bed?" Lisa asked,from the table, setting her book aside.

Dean looked at the clock and shook his head.

"It's 7:30," he said in a matter of fact voice, "Dad ALWAYS lets us watch TV at 7:30."

She shrugged and looked back down to her book. Dean smiled to himself as he led his baby brother to the couch. Babysitters were SO easy! Picking up the remote, he was pleased to find that "Star Wars" was on. Just as one of the sand people jumped up to club Luke, he found himself tackled by thirty pounds of little brother.

"De!" He shrieked, burring his face in his big brother's shirt. "Scary!"

Wrapping his arms tightly around the terrified toddler, Dean whispered soothing words, simultaneously turning off the TV.

"It's okay, Sammy. No monsters are gonna get ya. It's okay."

"Is he alright?" Lisa asked, rounding the couch.

"He's fine." Dean muttered, rocking his baby brother until he stopped shaking.

While Lisa went back to her book, Dean sat Sammy on the couch next to him and pointed at the blank screen.

"See Sammy, no more monsters. Nothing to be scared of."

"Kay." Sammy sniffed, wiping his nose on his sleeve.

Dean grabbed a Kleenex from the box on the end table and helped Sammy blow his nose, wiping away a few stray tears with his thumb.

"You okay now?"

"Yeah." Sammy sighed, fiddling with the hem of his pajama shirt.

Needing to distract Sam, and also wanting to get back to his movie, Dean scanned the room for something for his brother to do. Seeing Lisa at the table gave him an idea.

"Sammy, are you a big boy yet?"

"Uh-huh." The little guy mubbled.

"Wanna do a big boy thing?"

Dean gave him a big smile which Sammy returned in full force.

"Uh-huh!" He nodded happily.

Instructing the boy to stay put, not an easy task since he was almost bouncing in excitement, Dean ran over to one of John's bags, looking for the perfect idem, before rushing back to the couch.

"See Sammy." Dean heaved the large object onto the coffee table. "This is one of Daddy's books, only for big boys. Can you be a careful big boy and look at the book?"

"Yeah." Sammy whispered, staring at the big leather book in awe.

Dean turned back on the TV, making sure to turn the volume down, and continued to watch his movie, all the while keeping an eye on Sam with their Dad's book. He knew John wouldn't be happy if it got ripped, but it was the only book without pictures. It just had a bunch of weird symbols that Dad said made demons go away. It wasn't like Sammy would ever be able to read it anyway.

Fifteen minutes later, Dean noticed Sammy's head was staring to bob and knew exactly what time it was.

"Okay, Sammy, bed time."

"Sammy no sleepy." He protested, clearly fighting to keep his eyes open.

"Sammy yes sleepy." Dean countered, gathering the little boy up in his arms.

Carrying him over to the bed they shared, Dean pulled back the blanket and tucked his brother in on the side farthest from the door.

"Goodnight Sammy." Dean said, ruffling the boy's hair.

The two year old pulled himself up, giving his big brother a big hug and a kiss on the cheek.

"Na-night De, I yove you."

"Love you to." Dean whispered, laying his brother back down.

He waited a few minutes until Sammy was clearly asleep before heading back to the couch to watch the end of the movie. And they thought he couldn't babysit, Dean thought with a smile. Just goes to show, he was the best at taking care of Sammy.

* * *

If you read my other stuff you know I like to leave off with cliffys, but I thought I would be nice ... this time. *evil grin*

Let me know how I am doing. I know this is starting off kinda slow, but Winchester luck is about to rear it's ugly head ...

SIDE NOTE: The terms "Look to the sky" and "tubby" are bath time sayings from my childhood that I now use with my sisters' kids.


	4. Chapter 4

I hope this makes up for John's last chapter being so short. Enjoy ...

**

* * *

Chapter 4**

"D^&* it!"

John slammed his fist against the dashboard, wincing at the pain that shot through his wrist.

"Take it easy, John." Bobby said, keeping his eyes on the road. "Busting your wrist even more ain't gonna help anyone."

"I had him, Bobby." The new hunter groaned. "I had him and I let the b^s$a#d slip away."

"It happens to the best of us." Bobby sighed. "Just remember, that girl wouldn't be alive right now if it wasn't for you."

He nodded, remembering the fearful look the she had given him when he got between her and the werewolf. The kid couldn't have been more then seventeen or eighteen years old, barely older then Lisa, frozen with fear at the sight of her would-be killer. He had seen that look before, on kids even as young as Dean, that was the price of war. But this enemy was worse then any he had faced in Vietnam. The VK were savage fighters … but at least they didn't eat the hearts of children.

"Right now," Bobby continued, "let's just worry about how we will explain your arm to Lisa."

John dropped his gaze to the red stained bandanna wrapped around his tattered sleeve. The cuts weren't deep, probably wouldn't scar much less need stitches, but left an alarming amount of blood soaked into his shirt and jacket. The boys were sure to be asleep, so he didn't have to worry about scaring them, but the babysitter was another story. By the time they pulled up to the hotel the bleeding had just about stopped. Taking off his coat, John handed it to his friend before pulling on Bobby's coat. They shoved the ruined jacket into their duffel and casually strolled up to their room, hoping the teen would be too tired to notice the change in wardrobe.

"Hey Lisa." John muttered, setting his bag down. "How did the boys do?"

His eyes immediately sought out the two lumps under the floral comforter.

"They were great." She gave them a tired smile. "Perfect angels."

John raised one eyebrow, glancing over to Dean. Something told him he wasn't getting an accurate account of the nights events, but he would worry about that later. Handing the girl a ten, he moved over to the far bed, smiling at the sight that greeted him. Sammy was curled up against Dean's chest, his tiny fists wrapped up in this sibling's shirt, while Dean had one arm draped protectively over his little brother. After pulling the blanket up to the boys' chins, John ran a hand over the side of his baby's head. Sammy's face scrunched up and he curled up a little more, pulling on Dean's shirt. The older brother responded to the movement but tightening his grip, pulling Sammy closer to him, all the while both of them staying sound asleep.

"John?" Bobby called from the table.

Giving his sons once last look, John made his way to where the other hunter had the first aid kit waiting.

"We should start earlier tomorrow." John commented, taking a seat as Bobby pull out the peroxide. "Now that we know what the werewolf looks like we might even be able to find him before sunset."

Bobby nodded but didn't comment as he poured the liquid over the open cuts. John cursed under his breath, trying not to wake the boys.

"Dad?"

Too late. He looked over to see his oldest sitting up and rubbing his eyes.

"Go back to sleep, Dean."

"You're hurt." Dean cried softly, climbing out of bed.

"He's fine." Bobby assured the kid, wrapping gaze over the claw marks.

Dean hurried over to the table, pausing when he saw the bloody shirt on the floor.

"Did the werewolf get ya?"

"Don't worry about it." John smiled, trying to ease the worry and fear he saw in his boy's eyes. "I'll get it next time."

Dean nodded, watching as his honorary uncle secured John's wrist in an ace bandage.

"I know you will, and you don't have to worry about us either." Dean said confidently. "That werewolf comes around here, I'll kill 'em."

"I'm sure you will." John stifled a chuckle.

"I will, Dad." Dean said seriously. "No way I'm letting that thing scratch Sammy, he's too little to have cuts that big."

Forcing the mental image of his baby bleeding out of his mind, John stood up and steered Dean back to bed.

"Don't worry, that thing is far away from here."

Thank God! He wasn't sure he would be able to focus on the hunt if his kids were anywhere near the attacks. John pulled back the blankets and Dean crawled up next to Sammy.

"Hey Dean," John whispered, covering up his boys, "tomorrow, Bobby and I have to go to the library. You think you can keep Sammy out of trouble for a while?"

"Sure thing, Dad." Dean answered without hesitation. "You gonna get Lisa to come back?"

John noticed the hopeful note in his voice and remembered what the teenager said before she left.

"I thought you didn't like babysitters." John eyed him suspiciously.

"Lisa's cool." Dean shrugged. "So, is she coming back?"

Hew wasn't sure what had gone down while he was gone, but the boys were fine and that's all his tired mind cared about.

"Sure." He muttered pushing himself off the bed.

"Good." Dean yawned. "And we need more milk and Lucky Charms."

"D%&^," John muttered, "I'll need o go shopping."

He didn't really have time, but just about the only thing he DID have was beer.

"We can go." Dean offered. "I know what to get and Lisa can push the cart."

It WOULD save him time, but he couldn't figure out why Dean had the sudden change of heart. If Lisa had done something wrong he would have probably been called back on account of blood shed, so obviously that wasn't the case. He didn't seem to be afraid of her, and his oldest would never want her back if Sammy didn't like her. But the only babysitters Dean has responded this well too were Bobby and Pastor Jim. Was this kid really good or was something else going on?

"Dad, can we?"

"Sure, why not."

Dean had helped his grocery shopping enough times to know what to get, h^%& in a few more years he might just take over the job entirely. He'd call Lisa in the morning to make sure she could do it, but right now they all needed sleep. Tussling with a werewolf takes a lot out of a guy.

"Now go to sleep Dean, we have a busy day tomorrow."

Dean nodded, wrapping his arms around his baby brother and closing his eyes.

"Night Dad." He murmured.

"Night Dean." John replied, carding his fingers through his son's hair.

After grabbing a quick shower, John followed his own advice, stretching out on the bed closest to the door while Bobby took the couch. While the veteran hunter snored softly, John's mind wandered back to what Dean said. There was no doubt in his mind that Dean would protect Sammy with his life, but John was determined to make sure would he never have to make that choice. Dean was a great kid and a fantastic big brother, but John was the dad … the ultimate protector of his family.

* * *

So the thing got away ... can you see the problem yet?

Let me know how I am doing and I will get the next part up asap.

BTW, this chapter took a while because I have been working on a few other chapters, including the first part of "Mojo Rising" (which will be posted by 9am Sunday morning ... Oregon time. :) )


	5. Chapter 5

Just to let those of you know who haven't read my other stories, I do not swear ... ever. I won't even write them out. However the Winchesters DO swear ... kinda ... a lot. So to keep them accurate I have to swear. As a compromise, I adopted the comic book custom of replacing cussing with symbols. I'm sorry is it confuses/annoys you, but I'm not going to bend my principles or the character quality I strive for just to make people happy.

Okay, now that that's cleared up, here's some more cuteness for you. :)

**

* * *

Chapter 5**

Dean carefully flipped through a car magazine, his little brother pressed against his side trying to see the pages.

"Yeyo." Sammy stated, pointing at a Camaro.

"Yup, that's yellow." Dean said with a smile, turning the page.

"Bloo."

"Very good Sammy." Dean praised, admiring the sleek blue mustang.

"Wed."

"You are so smart." Dean praised, turning the page away from the red convertible.

"De?"

Dean looked over to see what had his brother stumped.

"Silver."

"Siver." Sam repeated.

After a few more minutes of identifying colors, Dean could tell he was staring to lose the toddlers attention.

"Sammy, why don't you pick a book to read?"

"Kay De."

Sammy pushed himself up from their spot on the floor and toddled over to the children's shelves. Hoping he didn't choose some sissy story about a princess, Dean looked down at his magazine, suddenly distracted by a beautiful '66 Corvette.

"Dean."

John's voice cut through his almost trance like state. He looked up to see Sammy standing next to their dad and John motioning him over. Uh-oh. Knowing avoiding things would only make it worse, Dean got to his feet, squared his shoulders, and walked over to face his dad.

"Yes sir?" He asked, glancing down at his brother.

Sammy looked confused and a little nervous, but gave no farther clue as to what was going on. John held up a leather book with no title.

"Why does Sammy want me to read him this?"

Dean looked at the floor, trying to figure out if his dad was angry with him or not.

"Well …" He started slowly, avoiding eye contact, "Sammy got scared of the movie last night, so I let him look at it. It doesn't have any scary pictures or anything like that, just the weird words that he can't read anyway."

"Isa big boy book." Sammy added.

John raised his eyebrow and set the book on the table before smiling at the two year old.

"Sammy, why don't you go find another book."

"Kay Daddy." Sammy said quietly, rushing back to the children's books.

John turned to Dean and the seven year old wished that he could hide behind the children's shelf with his little brother.

"Dean," he started, his voice quiet and calm, "my books are not for Sammy."

"Yes sir." Dean said glumly, staring at his feet.

John tilted Dean's chin up until they were looking each other in the eye.

"I'm not mad at you." He continued. "You were just trying to help, but you need to understand something."

He picked up the book and opened it to a the middle, showing Dean the symbols that covered the page.

"This is used to fight monsters-"

"Will you teach me to read it?"

"What?" John gave him a surprised look.

"If I can read it, I can keep the monsters away from Sammy." Dean reasoned.

John nodded and returned the book to the table, before taking Dean's hands in his.

"Maybe someday I'll teach you to read it, but for now how about I keep the monsters away from Sammy."

"Okay Dad."

"Okay." John turned back to his work. "One more thing Dean, I don't want Sammy to get nightmares, so don't tell him monsters are real, okay?"

"Yes sir." Dean nodded and went back over to his brother.

He saw him giggling at a counting book.

"Look De," he happily pointed at the page, "twee doc'ters."

Sammy turned the page and dropped the book, a look of fear flashing across his face as he jumped into Dean's waiting arms.

"De!" He shrieked, burying his face in his big brother shirt.

"It's okay Sammy," Dean soothed, "I got ya. You're okay."

"What happened?" John demanded, appearing at his side.

Dean handed the shaking boy to his dad. As John cradled Sammy to his chest, his oldest went to find out what had caused the problem.

"S-scary Daddy." Sammy sobbed. "M-make it go 'way."

Retrieving the book, Dean held it up with a grim expression so John could see the image of four clowns dancing across the page. Slamming the book shut, Dean pushed it onto the highest shelf he could, keeping it far away from his baby brother. Dad was right, Sammy wasn't ready to know monsters were real. Dean just hoped that Sammy would be all grown up before he knew what was really out there, he didn't need anymore nightmares.

"It's alright now Sammy," John whispered, rubbing the boy's back, "they're gone now."

Dean shared a knowing look with his dad and started to gather up their things. Their trip to the library was over for Sammy. It was time to call Lisa.

* * *

I think this is going to be my last non-cliffy for a while ... not sure yet.

Anyway, let me know what you think and I'll get started on the next chapter. :)


	6. Chapter 6

Sorry this took so long (and is so short) but working on six stories at once takes up quiet a bit of time ... and I was away from my computer for a good chunk of the weekend.

Anyway, I hope you enjoy it.

**

* * *

Chapter 6**

Dropping the boys off with Lisa, John returned to the library. He found Bobby still looking through newspapers, every once and a while making a mark on the map.

"Anything new?"

"More of the same." The other hunter sighed.

John looked over the map, narrowing his eyes at the three black dots. The places where the creature had killed. Turning his attention to the green dots, he frowned.

"Aren't these sightings a bit spread out?"

"I'm just marking where people said they saw something." Bobby shrugged, adding another green dot. "Half of them are probably false leads anyway."

He had to agree with him there. Some people would do anything for attention. Joining him at the table, John scanned another newspaper and sighed inwardly, marking the map with a yellow dot. Another attack. This thing my have only killed three times, but it had put dozens in the hospital.

"You already mark the attack from last night?"

"Yup." Bobby responded, putting a yellow dot on the map.

John was just adding another green dot when he noticed something. One of the clusters of dots was uncomfortably close to their motel.

"Bobby?"

The other hunter glanced over and seemed to come to the same conclusion.

"Don't worry about it, John." He assured him, looking back at the paper in his hands. "A few sightings isn't gonna hurt the boys. Besides, we already know the b^s&a$d in downtown."

He really hoped his friend was right. Checking his watch, John saw that it was almost sunset. Show time.

Heading downtown, John already had a pretty good idea who the werewolf was. Robert Nelson was a former music teacher who lived in an apartment right near the area where most of the attacks took place. According to their research, Nelson had been in a car accident. The sever head trauma he received resulted in both hearing loss and partial blindness. If that carried over to his moonlight strolls, it would explain his lack of kills. On the other hand, being beaten by a blind and deaf wolf-man did not bode well for John's hunting career.

"Hey, there he is." Bobby gestured to the shadow darting across the roof tops.

The way it moved told them it could be nothing but a werewolf and John got his gun ready. This b&s$a%d died tonight.

Following the werewolf's quick movements, they managed to track him to a park. John cursed under his breath as he put the silencer on his gun. Just what they needed, a large area with a hundred hiding places and just as many potential victims. F^$%ing fantastic. Lucky for them, the only thing that would make his trail easier to follow would have been neon lights. Footprint, broken branches, even a scrap of clothing pointed the way toward the predator. Much easier then the last night, probably because there isn't much to leave a trail in the middle of the city.

The two hunters followed the trail quickly and quetly in search of their prey. John knew he was getting close, he could feel it. Crouching down, he spied the creature as it stalked a couple out for a walk. The monster rose to attack, but John was faster. A small sound, a muffled thump, and silence. It was over.

"Nice shot, John." Bobby praised, heading over to check on their kill.

"Wasn't hard." John muttered truthfully.

He had been directly behind the werewolf, Dean could have made the shot. He may only be seven, but he knew his way around a handgun. Speaking of Dean, John was anxious to take care of the body so he could get back to his boys ... but one look at Bobby's face told him it would not be that easy.

"What?"

Bobby gave him a grim expression and turned over the dead werewolf. It was Nelson, disfigured from the crash, but still Nelson. However, that wasn't what set the hunter on edge. Though similar in appearance, this was not the werewolf he fought the night before. There were two of them, and the more dangerous one was still out there!

* * *

Again, sorry this is so short, but it just seemed like a good place to end it.

So, let me know what you think and I will get the next part up as soon as possible. :)


	7. Chapter 7

Here ya are ...

**

* * *

Chapter 7**

Dean pulled a large bag of peanut M&Ms off the shelf and dropped them into the cart with the other groceries.

"We're getting low." he stated.

"Your dad keeps a supply M&Ms handy?" Lisa asked skeptically.

"Doesn't every dad?" He gave her look look of mild surprise.

She just shrugged and kept walking, grabbing a can of coffee from the shelf. Dean turned back around so she wouldn't see his triumphant smile. If only all their babysitters were this gullible.

"De?"

Dean slowed down until he was even with his brother in the cart.

"Yeah Sammy?"

"Sammy get charms?"

The two year old gave him a sweet smile coupled with those powerful puppy dog eyes. Man, it wouldn't be long until HE had the babysitter wrapped around his finger ... or anyone else for that matter.

"Sure." Dean smiled back and glanced up at Lisa. "We need Lucky Charms."

"Oh yeah, your dad mentioned that."

"Of course he did." Dean rolled his eyes. "It's only Sammy's favorite cereal EVER."

"Well I didn't know that." Lisa grumbled.

"That's why I'M here." Dean replied. "I know what we need."

"Okay, Dean," She sighed, "what else do we need?"

Dean's grin widened. It was official, he ruled.

"Well … we HAVE to get pizza, of course. And Dad ALWAYS has cookies around-"

"You sure about this?"

"Sure I'm sure." Dean stated, trying not to let her see his grin. "I go shopping with Dad all the time."

"I don't know-"

Uh-oh, he was losing her. Time to pull out the big guns.

"Okay, you don't HAVE to buy the cookies." Dean shrugged. "But YOU are going to be the one to tell Dad why we don't have anything for his late night snack."

Lisa hesitated and headed for the cookies. There was one thing Dean had learned about people, anyone who met John Winchester knew better then to tick him off. Yup, shopping with Lisa was a piece of cake. Speaking of cake …

"Hey Lisa," he smiled, "you know what else Dad likes to snack on?"

Letting Lisa put away the groceries, Dean took care of getting Sammy bathed and in his pajamas. By the time they were both clean and dressed Lisa had made some peanut butter sandwiches, before resuming her spot at the table with a book. Plopping his baby brother in front of the TV, Dean grabbed their dinner and put on the first kids movie he came to … AFTER Barney. Sammy was already afraid of clowns, he did not need that purple freak making him scared of dinosaurs too. Finding bugs bunny, Dean settled back and enjoyed his sandwich.

"De?" Sammy mumbled, crumbs dropping from his mouth. "Sammy have duce?"

"Sure Sammy." Dean ruffled his hair.

"Tank ku."

"No problem."

Dean pushed himself up and headed to the kitchen, pulling out their new bottle of apple juice and looking around for his brother's sippy cup. Suddenly, a pounding on the door man him stop dead in his tracks.

"What in the world?" Lisa muttered, heading for the door.

The pounding got louder. It sounded like someone was trying to break the door.

"De?"

Sammy's fearful whimper snapped Dean's attention over the the couch where his baby brother was ducking behind a pillow. What if whoever was at the door got it? What if they hurt Sammy? He couldn't let that happen. The door cracked and Lisa ran for the phone, but there was no way help would come in time. Dean knew this was up to him, he had to save Sammy!

"De! Hep!"

Running over he wrapped the trembling boy in his arms.

"It's okay Sammy." He soothed, "everything in going to be okay."

Another crack appeared in the door as Lisa talked frantically into the phone. Sammy burst into tears, sobbing for his daddy, Dean wanting to do the exact same thing, but he had to stay strong. John had taught him what to do at times like this, but first he had to get his brother to safety … but how?

Dean had just reached the couch when the wood finally gave way. Lisa's scream mixed in with a low growl as a wild eyed man with sharp teeth burst into the room.

"De! Scary!" Sammy shrieked, clinging to his arm.

Keeping himself between the wild man and his brother, Dean moved towards the nightstand, hoping he would find what he needed. No doubt about it, this was a werewolf, maybe even the same one that hurt his dad … and there was no way he was letting it NEAR Sammy.

Inching his way closer and closer to his goal, Dean stared defiantly into the monster's eyes. He tried to block out Sammy's cries and Lisa's screams, he had to focus if he was going to save his baby brother. Just as he reached into the drawer, the creature pounced!

* * *

So, I didn't get much of a response with the last chapter. I was thinking that maybe I didn't make it exciting enough. So thought I would take it up a notch with this one. What do you think?

Anyway, I'll get the next part up just as soon as I can. :)


	8. Chapter 8

Thanks for all the wonderful reviews. :)

Here's the next part ...

**

* * *

Chapter 8**

John frown at the steady beep, signaling the line was still busy. This was the third time he had tried calling, but he couldn't get through to Lisa. Most parents would be upset because, if the babysitter is talking on the phone, they weren't keeping as close an eye on the kids. John didn't really care about that, Dean could take care of himself and Sammy in most situations, but what he didn't like was that a dangerous werewolf was on the loose and he couldn't check on his boys.

"Bobby, go back to the hotel."

"John-"

"Just do it, d^%* it."

The other hunter shrugged and turned around. John barely took notice, his thoughts solely on his children. Something was wrong, he could feel it.

Pulling up to the hotel, John's heart jumped into his throat at the sight of three squad cars and an ambulance. Forcing himself to take a calming breath, he climbed out of the Impala, quickening his pace when he saw police tape stretched over the shattered hotel room door. Just as he ducked under the barrier, a young cop with a blond crew cut stepped in his way.

"Sir you need to stay back."

"Get out of my way." John growled, shoving past the younger man.

He didn't have time for this, he needed to get to his boys. Two more policeman joined the first, holding him back from the room.

"Sir," one of the new arrivals said, "you need to calm down."

John yanked one of his arms free and was just about to plant his fist in the speakers face when he saw a large black van drive up, the word 'CORONER' painted across the side. Oh, dear God, no. With renewed energy he shook off the remaining officers, only to have more come and back them up.

"Get the h*$# out of my way!" He roared, the need to see his boys overpowering everything else.

He briefly caught sight of a taser before Bobby's voice cut in.

"This is our room, d#^% it!" The other hunter growled, pulling the cop back. "His kids are in there!"

The cops seemed to soften a little, but did not release their hold.

"Are you John Franklin." The first one questioned.

"Yeah, now let me go!"

"Mr. Franklin?" A new voice called.

John looked over to see a man in a long brown coat with a badge hanging from around his neck. He had short brown hair that was just starting to grey and blue eyes that had seen more then they cared to share.

"I'm Detective Meloni," he said, gusturing for the other officers to disperse, "I would like to talk to you for a moment."

"Can't it wait?" John demanded, looking at the broken door.

"Don't you even want to know what happened?"

"What I WANT is to see my boys." John replied irritably. "Where are they?"

"Mr. Franklin, a man broke into your hotel room tonight, we have reason to believe he was armed-"

John could feel himself pale and he didn't wait to hear another word. Pushing past the detective, he ripped off the police tape and looked around the room, eyes widening in shock. Two paramedics were treating Lisa, the poor girl was nearly hysterical. Laying on the floor was the werewolf from the night before, blood pooling around his still body. But there was no sign of Dean or Sammy.

"What's going on here?" He half shouted. "Where are my boys!"

"Mr. F-Franklin?" Lisa's eyes filled with tears. "I'm sorry! I'm so sorry! I-I don't know what happened."

Turning away from the distraught teen, John towered over the detective. He was going to get answers and he was going to get them NOW.

"What happened?"

"Best we can tell, this man started pounding on the door to your room. Your babysitter called 911, but he broke in before we got here … your son shot him."

John could only blink. Dean? He looked over and saw the nightstand drawer open, the hiding place for his spare gun. His seven year old son killed a WEREWOLF?

"We're assuming the man brought the gun with him." Meloni continued. "Somehow, your oldest was able to turn it on him during the attack."

At that moment, John could only feel pride for his son. Dean had killed a monster and protected his baby brother. No parent could be more proud … but where was he? The creature attacked and John knew first hand how quickly you could get scratched by a werewolf.

"Where are they?" He asked, letting the worry seep into his tone. "Where are Dean and Sammy?"

The detective's eye fell to the ground.

"We're … not sure."

In a second John had the older man pinned to the wall.

"What?!"

"They ran out the door after the shooting." The detective explained. "We're still looking for them."

John looked around the room, confirming what he already suspected. Releasing Meloni, John stormed out the room.

"Mr. Franklin, we would like you to wait here" Meloni started.

"Screw that," John scoffed, "I'm gonna go find my sons."

Leading the way back to the Impala, John climbed behind the driver's seat. His kids were out there somewhere, scared, alone … and armed with a .45 handgun.

* * *

That's all for now. Let me know what you think. :)

I'll get the next part up asap.


	9. Chapter 9

**NOTE:** I just want you to know that, no matter how if looks, I would never subject either of the boys to the true evils of the human world at this young of an age. Just remember that if you start to fear too much for their safety from this point on. (If you don't know what I am talking about, you will by the end of the chapter.)

That being said, enjoy ...

**

* * *

Chapter 9**

Dean raced through the darkened streets as fast as his little legs could carry him. Sammy had trouble keeping the pace and ended up falling a couple times before Dean scooped him up and kept moving. He didn't know where he was or where he was going. Worst of all, he had no idea where his dad was. All he knew as the werewolf was dead and Lisa was crying almost as hard as Sammy. Some babysitter SHE turned out to be. He also knew that he couldn't last much longer. His legs were getting tired and his arms ached from carrying both the gun and his brother, but he didn't dare let go of the gun. It was the only protection they had, and he had to keep Sammy safe.

Stopping to rest, Dean set his baby brother down on a stack of newspapers on the windowless side of a building. He tucked the gun into the back of his pajama pants before wiping away the large tears that where falling down Sammy's chubby cheeks.

"De," the two year old sobbed, "Sammy want Daddy. Sammy want Daddy now!"

Dean pulled the toddled into a hug, rubbing soothing circles in his back.

"I know, Sammy." he whispered. "I want him too."

Glancing up at the darkening sky, Dean knew he had to find somewhere safe for them to hide until their dad found them. Keeping on hand on Sammy's shoulder, Dean stepped back to get a better view of the street.

"Hey kid." Someone sneered from behind him.

Moving quickly, Dean turned to face the greasy haired man, simultaneously stepping in from of his brother. A trembling hand clutched on the back of his shirt and Sammy moved closer to peer around his human shield.

"What do you want?" Dean demanded, imitated John's tone as best he could.

"You're a bit small to be walking around by yourself, aint cha?"

"Who said we're alone?" Dean challenged.

He didn't like the look of this guy, especially the way he kept looking at Sammy. He reminded Dean of the men in the gun stores looking at the newest rifles, like his brother was something the creep wanted to own and show off for his friends. Well buddy, that wasn't gonna happen.

"Tell ya what," The man said, licking his lips, "I got a place not far from here., You two could get out of the cold, I'm make you some food, and you can watch tv while I track down your mommy and daddy."

"You get Daddy?" Sammy sniffed.

"Sure kiddo."

Something about the man's smile had Dean reaching behind his back. He didn't know who this guy was or what he wanted with them, but he was d&%^ sure he didn't have John's phone number. This guy was up to something and , whatever it was, it couldn't be good. Just as the man took a step forward Dean brought out the gun he had hidden in his waistband.

"Back off b*^&#!"

He didn't even know what that word meant, but it's what Dad called monsters and it seemed to have the same effect on humans.

"Hey, easy there kid." He man said, eying the .45. "I just wanna help ya."

"No De," Sammy tugged on his shirt. "He get Daddy!"

"That's right," The smiling man slowly stepped forward, "I'm gonna help you find your Daddy."

Dean hesitated, wishing John was there to help him. He knew that he was suppose to shot monsters that tried to hurt him or his brother, but could a human be a monster too? Suddenly, the greasy man dove forward, grabbed Sammy and pulling him to his chest. The frightened boy kicked and screamed, reaching out for his big brother.

"De!" He cried. "Hep, De!"

Red hot anger burned through him, but Dean didn't know if he was allowed to shoot this guy.

"Let him go!" He ordered, pointing the gun up at the man.

"You can't shoot me." The man laughed, tightening his grip on the sobbing child. "You'll hit this little guy."

Dean knew he was right. He could knock all the pop cans off the fence, but he still wasn't good enough to shoot past his brother. Slowly he lowered the gun, watching helplessly as the man backed away.

"Looks like you're coming home with me." The man said to his captive.

"NO!" Sammy wailed. "Want De! No go! Peas no go! Sammy want De! DEEEEE!"

Never one to ignore his baby brother's cries, Dean raised the gun again.

"Drop him you b&s^a%d!" Dean growled, borrowing another word from his dad.

"My my, you have quite a mouth on you." The man chuckled taking another step back.

"D&#* straight, now let my brother go."

"Or what? You'll shoot me?" The man challenged. "Little brat, I bet you can't even-"

Monster or no monster, Dean had enough. He pulled the trigger and the man collapsed to the ground, clutching his leg.

"My knee!" He screamed. "You shattered my f^$%ing knee you little b#s*a$d!"

Dean moved forward, leaning over to look the man in the eye.

"I'm gonna shatter more then that if you ever touch my brother again." He said in a harsh whisper.

Turning away, he gathered Sammy in his arms and walked down the street, comforting the little guy as best he could. He had to find shelter soon if he wanted to keep his brother safe from all the monsters … even the human ones.

* * *

So, I kinda wanted to show Dean becoming ... well ... Dean. How did I do?

Let me know and I will get started on the next chapter. :)


	10. Chapter 10

Okay, first off, I accidentally posted "Trouble at Devils Lake" chapter 8 as "Learning Curve" chapter 10. My bad. I fixed it almost instantly, but FF still sent out messages saying this chapter was posted before I wrote it. Anyway, that's what happened and I hope you all can forgive me.

Secondly, this chapter took FOREVER to write because of the two teenagers you are about to meet. (I actually looked up lists of 80's slang to try and get them to sound right.)

Anyway, enjoy ...

**

* * *

Chapter 10**

John drove through town, wishing he had some place to start. Scenario after scenario ran through his mind, each one worse then the last.

"John, getting us in a wreak will not help find the boys." Bobby mumbled from the passenger seat.

Easing up on the gas pedal, John glanced over at the police scanner in his friends hand.

"Anything yet?"

"Nothing that helps us."

He turned his attention back to the streets, hoping to see a glimpse of his boys, but they remained empty. Where could they be?

"_All units, 207A on the corner of 35th and Main, shots fired."_

"What's that?"

"Attempted kidnapping." Bobby answered.

John paled at the though of someone trying to take one of his kids. What if it was? What if someone had tried to carry off his children and take them God knows where? And who was shot? Oh, please don't let his boys be hurt. Taking the next left, he headed toward 35th and Main, just in case.

By the time they arrived police had already roped off the area and a team of paramedics where treating a greasy looking man in the ally. Trying his hardest to look like a causal onlooker, John spotted a couple of teenagers wearing aprons from the store across the street.

"Hey, did you see what happened here?"

The taller teenager's eyes lit up and he ran a hand through his shaggy, bleached, hair.

"Dude, it was epic!"

"Yeah," the other teen with curly brown hair nodded. "They were like 'hey', then all 'back off', then like 'whoa man, chill out'. That's when the screaming started."

The boys description did nothing for John's nerves … mostly because the only part he understood was that there was screaming involved.

"So, what happened?" Bobby questioned.

"Okay," The first boy started, "so Brad and I were on break, right? And we look across the street to see this little dude carrying a baby and a gnarly gun."

"You're trippin, Nate." Brad cut in. "It wasn't a baby."

"Na dude, it totally was!"

"Na man, he was all walkin around and stuff. Babies can't do that."

"He was this big." Nate insisted, holding his hands about a foot apart. "That's a baby."

"Fine, he's a baby," John almost growled, "what happened next?"

Bobby put a hand on his shoulder, but John wasn't sure if it was to keep him calm or keep his from throttling eyewitnesses. The teens didn't seem phased, however, and launched back into their story.

"Well, the baby was crying, cause that's what babies do." Nate shot his coworker a triumphant look, before turning back to the hunters. "and the little dude was giving him a hug and looking around like he was looking for someone."

"That's when Riggs showed up." Brad added. "He was all like, 'hey"."

"Yeah but the little dude wasn't fallin for it and whipped out this HUGE gun. I mean this thing was like a rocket launcher or something."

"Ah, I've seen bigger."

"Where?"

"At the gun show, man."

"Well yeah, of course you'll see big guns at the GUN SHOW. But the little dude's gun was still huge."

"Totally wicked."

Okay, John thought as he attempted to hold onto what patience he had left, these two idiots knew nothing about guns … or keeping on track. John had to keep reminding himself that slamming them into a wall was not going to help.

"Okay, so the kid pulled out a big gun." Bobby said irritably, clearly having that same thoughts as his friend. "What then?"

"Ah, dude," Nate started, "Riggs was all like, 'whoa man, chill out.' and the little dude lowered his gun, but then Riggs attacked!"

"Yeah! He jumped forward and just grabbed the baby from behind the little dude's back."

John felt rage burning through him, as Bobby tightened his grip. They could see Riggs complaining about his leg as the paramedics tried to get him onto a gurney.

"What happened then." Bobby asked in a hard tone.

"Well,"Brad said, "the baby started crying and screaming, and the little dude was yelling. Let me tell you that kid had a mouth on him."

"For sure, man." Nate nodded. "And when Riggs tried to take the tiny guy away, little dude shot him."

"It was totally righteous!" Brad agreed. "He was all like 'drop him you b%s$a#d' then BANG, Riggs goes down."

"Yeah, he dropped the tiny dude and they were screaming-"

"He dropped him?" John demanded.

"Duh!"Brad rolled his eyes. "He got shot, of course he dropped the baby. And there was blood everywhere-"

John felt himself pale. Was Sammy hurt? How hard did he fall? Where was his baby now?

"The baby was bleeding?" Bobby asked, worry shining in his eyes.

"I don't know." Nate shrugged. "He seemed okay. I mean he was crying, but what do you expect?"

"Yeah, but the little dude when up to Riggs and said something to him, but I couldn't hear him. Then he just picked up the baby and walked away like it was nothin."

"Which way?" John asked quickly, hoping the idiots had at least paid that much attention.

"How should I know?" Nate shrugged, "I was too busy calling the cops."

"You didn't think to go over and help them?!" John growled, Bobby's hand retraining him from pummeling the guys.

"Little dude had a gun!" Nate exclaimed. "He might have shot us!"

"But it was totally awesome they way he blew off Riggs' knee." Brad added with a grin. "We all know the creep deserved it."

"Ah, for sure men."

John and Bobby shared a puzzled look that Brad, amazingly, picked up on.

"Riggs really LIKED little boys, if you know what I mean."

At that point all John saw was red as Bobby forcefully dragged him back towards the car. After shoving him into the passenger seat, Bobby climbed behind the wheel and got them out of there, which was probably a good thing. Committing homicide in from of witnesses would not help him find his boys. But if he ever saw that f^&*ing b#s%a$d again … John would NOT be aiming for the knee.

* * *

Okay, so John is on the boys trail ... but where are the boys?

Let me how your liking it and I'll get the next part up as soon as I can. :)


	11. Chapter 11

Sorry for my lack of posting, I had an emotionally rough weekend.

Anyway, I'll be posting again, starting with (at least) three chapters before I go to sleep.

Here is the first ...

**

* * *

Chapter 11**

Despite the growing ache in his arms, Dean tightened his grip on his baby brother. He couldn't stop again, not after the last time, but he knew he would have too soon before his strength gave out and he ended up dropping Sammy on his head.

"De," the toddler whimper, "Sammy want Daddy."

"I know, I know." Dean whispered back. "I want Daddy too."

"Go to 'pala? Daddy in 'pala."

If only he knew where their car was he would happily take Sammy there, but he didn't remember where John was hunting.

"Daddy will find us." He stated, trying to sound confident. "You'll see."

Knowing he was just about to fall over, Dean ducked into an ally behind an pile of crates to rest.

"De, Sammy scared." His brother sniffed, burying his face in Dean's pajama shirt. "Sammy no like dark. Sammy want Daddy!"

Dean held him close, fighting back his own tears, and ran his fingers through the little boy's chocolate curls.

"It's okay Sammy," he soothed, "I'm here. Nothing's gonna get you."

"Hey kid!" A voice called from behind him.

Instantly, Sammy ducked behind him, trembling in fear. Dean whipped around, grand.

"Back off!" He ordered, pointing the gun between the man's eyes.

"Hey! Take it easy!" The man raised his hands, stepping away from the armed seven year old.

Dean looked over the man's stained apron, remembering his dad's shirt, and his anxiety levels skyrocketed.

"You come near my brother I'll kill you." He declared, slowly backing into a corner.

"Jeeze kid, I don't want to hurt you. Just wanted to help."

Dean scoffed at the same line the other creep pulled and aimed at the man's bloodstained chest.

"Come closer and I'll shoot you."

"Just calm down kid." The man said, taking another step back. "I'm not gonna hurt you or your brother just stay calm and wait right there."

He slipped through a side door of the nearest building and Dean tucked his gun back into his waistband.

"Climb up, Sammy." He instructed, squatting down.

Once the shaking arms were securely around his neck, Dean hoisted his brother up onto his back and took off down the street. No way was he waiting around for whatever the new guy had planned.

Racing through the growing night, Dean kept an eye out for anything that even resembled safety. But the farther he went the more run down the area became. To make matters worse, his brother was getting tired and was finding it hard to hold on. Finally, just as he felt Sammy starting to loosen his grip for the third time, he caught sight of something that look almost familiar. Making a bee line for the boarded up building, Dean let out a sigh of relief. A church, abandoned, but still safer then the streets. He felt Sammy's head lift off his shoulder and heard a small gasp.

"De! You find Pas'ta Jeem!"

"No Sammy, Pastor Jim is on vacation, remember?"

"Oh ya."

While Sammy's head snugged back into the crook of his neck, Dean started circling the building, trying to find a way in. Setting Sammy on the ground, he managed to pray a loose board off of a window before smashing the glass with it.

"You first." He said, reaching down to the toddler.

"No De." Sammy clung to his arm. "Scary."

"It's not scary." Dean assured him. "It's just like Pastor Jim's church … only darker."

"Sammy no like darker."

Looking around for any sign of danger, Dean climbed up on the windowsill, one foot in and one foot out of the empty building.

"Come one Sammy. I'll go in with you."

Nodding, the two year old reached up his little arms to his big brother. Dean pulled him through the window, setting him on the floor next to him.

"Owie!" Sammy shrieked, lifting his feet off the floor.

Dean pulled him up into his lap, and gasped when he saw his baby brother's feet were now a bloody mess.

"Oh Sammy … I'm sorry." He tried to sooth the crying toddler.

How could he have forgotten the glass? Holding tight to Sammy, Dean slid off the windowsill, biting back a scream when his arm scrapped across the broken window and his feet landed on the razor sharp shards.

"De owie too?" Sammy sniffed.

Biting his lip, Dean carefully walked away from the window, forcing a smile.

"It's not that bad." He promised, even thought he really just wanted to cry.

Setting Sammy down on one of the dusty pews, Dean used what little light shown in from the street lights to pull the glass out of his brother's feet and throw it back toward the window.

"De!" Sam screamed, pointing at his bloody arm. "De owie!"

"I'm okay Sammy." Dean assured him, not looking up from his task.

A tiny hand pushed his head away so he was facing the cut on his arm.

"De OWIE!"

"I told you, I'm okay."

Sammy crossed his arms and gave him a stern look … which would probably be more convincing after he stopped wearing pull-ups.

"De owie. De need band-aid."

He agreed, and Sammy needed just as many band-aids as he did, but they didn't have any.

"Sammy first."

"No." Sammy stated firmly. "De first."

With a frustrated growl, Dean pulled off his thin shirt and used a piece of glass to cut off a strip before wrapping it around his arm.

"Better?"

Sammy leaned over a planted a kiss over the makeshift bandage.

"Ah better."

Dean smiled, but looked down at what was left of his shirt. They were going to need more then this, which only meant one thing … he had to go back out there.

* * *

So, was the new stranger good or bad? And what will happen when Dean ventures out again?

Let me know what you think and I will post again soon. (Remember, I post sooner when people ask me too.)


	12. Chapter 12

Okay, so you guys remember my bad weekend a couple weeks back? Well, the doctor gave me some meds to help with anxiety. What they gave me usually makes people hyper, so they gave me other stuff to make me relaxed. Well the first ones had the opposite effect they usually do and the second worked too well. The result: I spent all my free the time sleeping.

Now I am happy to report that I am on the right dose and awake enough to write again. YAY!

Anyway, on with the story ...

**

* * *

Chapter 12**

John walked out of the convenience store, resisting the urge to break something. With no leads, the only thing the hunters could do was canvas the area and hope they were going in the same direction as the boys. He found Bobby sitting in the Impala with the poilice scanner, as he had most of te night, but something about his expression had John quickening his pace.

"Find something?" He asked, daring to hope.

"There's been another sighting." Bobby answered.

Thank God, John thought, as he hurried to get behind the wheel.

"Where?"

"Outside a butcher's shop on seventh, about an hour ago."

"An HOUR?!"

"Don't shoot the messenger, John. I just found out."

John took a calming breath, as his mind took him back to where he had been an hour ago. Pulling up to the address Bobby gave him he felt a pit in his stomach. At the time his boys were seen they had been just leaving the last sighting … less then a mile away. He had been so close to his boys and he didn't even know it.

"The cops already left," Bobby said, checking his fake badge, "so we'll be follow up."

"Fine by me." John muttered, climbing out of the car.

He didn't care who they pretended to be, just as long as he found his boys.

John cast a glance at the elderly butcher in front of him, reminding himself that patience was a virtue. But if this guy didn't stop rambling on about his specials and get to telling him where his kids were, virtue would soon be replaced by bloodshed.

"Where did you see the boys?" Bobby asked calmly.

John locked his jaw as the old man started muttering. Would he just spit it out already?

"Oh … well … you know … I never actually SAW them … per say."

Okay, now he WAS going to hit him.

"Then why did we receive a report that they were spotted here?" Bobby questioned, subtly stepping a bit in front of John.

His friend knew him so well.

"Um … well … It, uh … was my assistant, Tony … he saw them."

"Then why aren't we talking to Tony?" John growled.

Patience only went so far when your children were missing.

"Well … um … he's working … in the back, now … Did you … uh … want to see him?"

Just as John moved forward to throttle the man, Bobby stepped directly in his path and addressed the infuriating butcher.

"Yes, we would."

"Tony!" The man called over his shoulder.

A young man emerged from the back room. He was fairly tall, almost the same height as they were, with smooth dark skin and short black hair.

"Yes, Mr. Gray?"

"Would you … um … come talk to these … er … detectives … here?"

"Sure." Tony turned to the hunters, while Mr. Gray headed around the counter. "This about the kids?"

"Yes-" Bobby started.

"Where did you see them?" John interrupted.

"Over here."

Tony motioned for them to follow and headed back the way he came.

"See, I was just taking out the trash," he explained, opening a door to the ally, "when I saw this kid standing by that crate."

John went over to the crate, but only found one tiny footprint the far back corner. Sammy.

"I called out to him, you know, to see if he was alright," Tony continued, "and the kid pulls a gun on me!"

"Did you approach them?" Bobby asked.

"Are you kidding?" Tony scoffed. "The kid thought I was after his brother. I'm lucky I didn't get shot.

Considering he was wearing a bloodstained apron, he was luckier then he thought.

"Where did they go?" John questioned, loosing their trail at the mouth of the ally.

"Don't know." Tony sighed. "I went inside to call the police and when I came back the kids were gone."

"You left them out here alone?" John glared, taking a step towards the man.

"Like I said, the kid had a gun." Tony backed up and raised his hands. "What was I suppose to do?"

John wanted to shake him, yell at him that he should never have let them out of his sight, but that wouldn't do him any good now.

"Thank you for your time." Bobby said, gripping John by the arm and leading him back to the Impala.

Climbing into the driver's seat, John pounded his hand against the dash board. An hour. His boys had been right here an hour ago … but where were they now?

"We'll find them, John." Bobby stated, for the twentieth time.

John sighed and rested his hands on the steering wheel. He knew they would find them, but the question was, would they be okay?

* * *

Let me know what you think and I will get the next part up ASAP. :)

COMING SOON: Dean's supply run. :)


	13. Chapter 13

I am SO happy. :) I found out that my sisters are coming for a visit this weekend. You know what that means? MY NEPHEWS AND NIECE ARE COMING! (: YAY ROWAN! YAY KATIE! YAY HENRY! :) I love those kid little babies. (In case you forgot, Rowan is 2 1/2yrs, Kaite is 2mos, and Henry is 9mos. They are all SO CUTE!)

Okay, done ranting. Here is the next chapter ...

**

* * *

Chapter 13**

Dean bit his lip as he limped towards the front of the room, Sammy clinging to his back. His feet hurt like crazy, but he couldn't stop yet. Finding an overturned pulpit, he tucked Sammy inside, wanting to hide his baby brother from anyone or anything that might come poking around.

"Stay here, Sammy." He whispered. "I'll be right back."

"De," the two year old clung to his arm, "stay."

He wished he could, but they needed supplies if they were going to make it until Jon found them. Forcing himself to smile, Dean ran his fingers through the little boy's chocolate curls.

"I'll be right back Sammy." He promised. "It will be okay."

"No De, stay." He cried. "Peas stay."

Dean sighed. One of these days he was REALLY going to have to learn how to say no to those big puppy dog eyes. For now … he could wait a few more minutes.

"Okay," he sat down next to the sideways box, "I'll stay."

Sammy calmed down, his eyes dropping to half mast in a matter of seconds. Maybe if he could get him to sleep, he could go out and be back before the little tyke knew he was gone. Carding his fingers in his brother's hair, Dean thought back to how his Mom used to get him to sleep when he was Sammy's age.

"_You are my sunshine, my only sunshine,_

_you make me happy when skies are gray. _

_You'll never know dear, how much I love you. _

_Please don't take my sunshine away."_

As he sang and watched Sammy drift off, Dean felt his eyes fill with tears, remembering the times when Mary had done the same thing for him just a few years before. Wiping his eyes and shoving the memories back, Dean made himself focus. He couldn't break down now, not when Sammy needed him. Looking around he found what must have been a tablecloth of some kind and cut it in half. After tucking one piece around his brother, Dean draped the other over the pulpit. It wasn't much in the way of protection, but at least no one would be able to see him. Once satisfied that he had done everything he could for Sammy, Dean went back to the window, carefully maneuvering around the bloody glass, and slipping out into the night.

First stop, Dean decided, was to find better clothes. Spotting a street vendor, he managed to slip inside the rack of t-shirts and pulled one off the hanger unnoticed. Once back in the light he made a face at the image of Madonna.

"No." Dean stated, stuffing the garmet in the trash.

He climbed in for a second shirt and came out with Rainbow Brite.

"H^&% no." He muttered, tossing it in with the other one.

There had to be, at least, ONE decent shirt in there. Grabbing two on his third trip, he was relived to see Mickey Mouse and Guns and Roses. Pulling the band's t-shirt over his head, Dean tucked the bottom into his pajama pants creating a balloon like effect.

"Perfect." He whispered, tucking the Disney shirt into the pouch he created.

He would bring that one back to Sammy as soon as he finished getting supplies. Speaking of which, his next stop was just across the street.

It was pretty easy getting into the mini-mart unnoticed, all Dean had to do was wait for someone who wasn't paying attention and follow them in. Soon he had gathered band-aides, antibiotic ointment, gauze wraps, candy bars, peanuts, bottled water, apple juice, cookies, granola bars, and handi-snacks. He hoped it would be enough, because his shirt was getting too full to add more stuff. Slipping outthe door, Dean hurried back toward the church, anxious to get back to Sammy, stopping only to tie a knot in one end of the Disney shirt to create a bag.

"Hey little man," a voice called, "ain't it past your bed time?"

Hearing a chorus of laughter, Dean looked up to see a handful punk teenagers blocking the sidewalk.

"Out of my way, losers." He growled.

"Or what?" The ringleader taunted with a cocky grin.

Dean glared at the older boy. He didn't have time for this. Sammy was waiting for him all alone. If he woke up before he got back … there was only one thing he could think of to end this quickly. Pulling out the .45, Dean aimed in right between the startled teen's eyes.

"I can aim for your eye level …" he lowered the gun, "or mine. Take your pick."

Even in the dim light of the street lamps, Dean could see the big kids pale.

"H-Hey man … be cool." The once smug leader stammered, raising his hands in surrender. "We were j-just messing around. Weren't we guys?"

The others quickly agreed, backing away from them armed little boy. Dean held his stance as he glared at the group.

"Beat it." He ordered.

Without a seconds hesitation, the whole group scattered. Dean calmly tucked his gun back into his waistband and picked up his makeshift bundle. He hoped Sammy hadn't woken up without him, but even more then that, he hoped their dad found them soon. He was the best at taking care of Sammy … but dad was the best at keeping bad things away.

* * *

That's it for now. Let me know what you think and I will get started on the next part. :)

SIDE NOTE: "You Are My Sunshine" was one of my sister's favorite songs when she was REALLY little. Now she sings it to her kids, Rowan and Katie, who this story is dedicated to.


	14. Chapter 14

Okay, so I had MAJOR writer's block with this one until I got a VERY good inspiration to push passed it ...

**(: GARRET RICHARD LLOYD :)**

**(: 6 POUNDS 10 OUNCES 18 INCHES LONG :)**

**(: BORN JUNE 14TH, 2010 :)**

**(: HOOYA NEPHEWS! :)**

That being said, sorry it took so long to post. Enjoy ...

**

* * *

Chapter 14**

John rubbed a weary hand over his face. It had been almost two hours since anyone had seen his boys, anything could have happened to them in that amount of time. If he didn't get a break soon, he was going to loose it.

"We'll find them John." Bobby said, for what must have been the twentieth time.

He nodded in agreement. It was the only option, he wouldn't be able to survive with anything less. But where were they? He took a deep breath, forcing himself to focus.

"Canvasing isn't working." John stated, looking over the map he spread across the trunk of the Impala. "We need a new plan."

Pulling out a pen he started marking the locations of the sightings.

"What time did Dean shoot the pedophile?"

Bobby checked his watch and shrugged.

"I'd say about 8:20 … 8:30 … something like that."

John nodded and wrote the time down next to the corresponding mark. He felt his blood begin to boil when he thought back to what that b^s&a$d had tried to do to his baby.

"Remind me to help Dean with his aim." He commented, tracing the path from the hotel to the ally.

"What are you talking about? The kid shattered his knee, it's not an easy shot."

"Exactly. If he had missed …"

He didn't even want to consider what could have been. Bobby placed a comforting hand on his shoulder.

"He did good, John. He saved his brother and took the b^s%a*d down."

John knew that was true, and there were no words that described how proud he was of Dean for doing what he did … but the man had laid a hand on Sammy. That was a crime with only one fitting punishment.

"Sammy isn't that big. A gut shot or a head shot would have been an easier target."

"Dean's good, but not THAT good." Bobby grumbled. "He ain't gonna risk a shot like that when the guy is holding his brother."

"I know … that's why I will be helping him with his aim." John stated. "It this ever happens again, the b^s%a$d won't be walking away."

Apparently deciding the conversation wasn't worth pursuing, Bobby shook his head and dropped the subject, turning his attention back to the map.

"They were seen by the cat lady about twenty minutes after that-"

"And at the butcher shop just before nine." John finished, marking the sightings.

"Oh, don't forget the old man." Bobby reminded him.

Their first lead. He had been taking out his trash and saw the boys run by, only five minutes after the werewolf broke in. Much more helpful then the cat lady, who spent half her time scolding John on letting his kids out after dark. If she was such a good citizen, why didn't she try to help the boys? Or at least call the police?

"Romeo saw them here, a few blocks from the butcher shop." Bobby pointed to the map.

Making a note of the sighting, John wondered how long the young couple would be together since Juliet was furious at her tattooed boyfriend for joking about the situation and not helping the kids when he saw them. John definitely knew how she felt … and now sporting a black eye, Romeo had a pretty good idea of how HE felt.

"That's all the sighting that we know of." Bobby commented, bracing his hands on the Impala. "It doesn't look like Dean is following any kind of pattern."

John barely heard him as he focused on tracing the path his boys had taken. It definitely looked erratic. A left here a right there, straight for two blocks only to turn and go six blocks before turning again. What was he missing? Why was Dean taking the streets he did? Or maybe … that wasn't important.

"That's it." He breathed.

"What?"

Quick calculations supported his theory, giving John the first hope he's had since this whole nightmare started.

"You mind sharing with the class there, John?"

"Dean's trying to protect Sammy."

"Riiiiiiight." Bobby nodded slowly, all the while looking at him like he had announced he was going to become a belly dancer in Antarctica.

"It's a pattern Bobby," he gestured to the map, "Dean turned every time there was a threat."

"I'll be d^%&ed." Bobby muttered. "Why do you think he turned different ways?"

"Trying to evade danger, make himself harder to track, who knows." John shrugged. "But if we walk the same path they did, we should be able to find them."

Bobby adjusted his cap and sighed.

"John … you know any dangers the boys saw might not still be there."

"Doesn't matter." He responded firmly. "I still have to try."

* * *

So John is on their trail ... but will he find them before someone else does?

Let me know what you think and I'll get started on the next chapter. :)


	15. Chapter 15

Sorry this took so long. (With only 5 chapters left, I have no idea why I didn't work on it sooner.) Anyway, I am going to try and get this one **finished**, not just updated, in the next week or so.

That being said, enjoy ...

**WARNING:** This chapter contains a large amount of brotherly fluff as well as excessive cuteness towards the end. This has been known to cause the reader to turn to mush and/or make the sound "aww". **Read at your own risk.**

**

* * *

Chapter 15**

Shoving the t-shirt of supplies through the broken window, Dean took a quick look around before climbing in after it. He had to get to Sammy, had to make sure his baby brother was still okay. Crunching the glass under his make-shift plywood and gauze shoes, he hurried over to where he had left the sleeping toddler.

"Sammy?" He whispered, slowly approaching the pulpit. "You awake?"

Dean let out a sigh of relief when he found his brother fast asleep, right where he left him. Brushing back his chocolate curls, Dean planted a gentle kiss on the little guy's forehead.

"We're gonna be okay, Sammy. You'll see."

After making sure the blanket was tucked securely around his sibling, Dean turned his attention to the supplies. Finding the furniture store had been a lucky break, since the mini-mart didn't carry shoes. He had managed to find scraps big enough to cover both his and Sammy's feet, but he would have to wait for his brother to wake up before he could take care of that. In the meantime, he divided up the food and first aid supplies, putting the food back in the t-shirt. Shoving the shirt aside, Dean looked over his assortment of bandages and ointments, trying to remember how Dad and Uncle Bobby did it.

"Okay," he said to himself, "first you clean it …"

Pulling the scrap of cloth off the cut on his arm, Dean bit his lip when the fabric pulled the skin and caused it to start bleeding again.

"Y-you can do this, Dean." He coached himself, trying to keep his voice from shaking. "Just do what Dad does."

The seven year old carefully poured some of the water over the cut, before blotting it with a corner of his ruined pajama top. Once it was dry, Dean squeezing some of the antibiotic ointment over it and topped it with three band-aids. Satisfied with his work, the older brother looked over to Sammy, knowing that he had to patch him up too.

"Sammy," he called, gently shaking his shoulder, "time to wake up."

The little boy tossed and turned, moaning in protest, before peering up at him.

"De?"

"Yeah, Sammy, I'm here."

"Daddy here?"

Sammy's looked around the dark sanctuary, searching the shadows for their dad.

"No," Dean responded sadly, "Dad's not here."

Wide blue-green eyes started to fill with tears and Dean wrapped his arms around his baby brother.

"It's okay, Sammy." He whispered. "Dad's gonna find us, you'll see."

"P-prwamiss?"

"Yeah … I promise."

He pushed the little guy back so he could get a better look at his feet.

"De got band-aids?"

"You know it." Dean grinned, opening up the bottle of water.

He poured some of the cool liquid over the makeshift bandages, hoping that it would make it easier to peel off. Luckily, it worked, and Dean quickly patched up the toddler's feet.

"De?" Sam asked, as Dean finished wrapping the gauze around his brother's foot.

"Yeah?"

"When Daddy gonna get here?"

Oh man, what he would give to answer that. He scratched his eyebrow, rocking back on his heels.

"Um … I don't know, Sammy."

Sticking his lip out on a pout, Sam fiddled with the hem of his pajama shirt.

"But Sammy wants Daddy, De." He whined. "Want Daddy NOW!"

"Would you like some juice while we wait?"

Dean hoped the prospect of food or drinks would distract him, but based on the defiant way he shook his head, that wasn't gonna happen.

"No." Sammy said firmly. "Want Daddy."

"Okay … how about some cookies?"

Cookies had to work, Dean thought to himself, Sammy would do anything for cookies. If this didn't work, nothing would. Sammy seemed to consider it, but stubbornly shook his head.

"No. Want DADDY."

"But I don't know how to FIND Daddy."

Dean blurted the words out in frustration, but instantly regretted it the second he saw the look of shock on his baby brother's face. The toddler's horror filled eyes shown with tears as he stared up at him.

"De … no find Daddy?"

"Sammy … I … I didn't … I don't …"

"No one … find Daddy?"

"No ... that's not what I meant."

"Daddy no come?"

At this point the tears were starting to fall, and not just for Sammy. Seeing his brother that scared, as well as voicing all his fears, was almost too much for the seven-year-old. Not wanting the little one to see him cry, Dean quickly pulled him into a hug.

"Stop it, Sammy." Dean snapped, once again shocking the boy into silence. "Dad WILL come. I don't HAVE to find him, because HE will find US. You just wait, he'll come … he'll come … he'll come."

Dean whispered that last words into Sammy's hair, hoping the chocolate colored curls would absorb his tears. A second later, tiny arms wrapped around his back and he felf himself being rocked back and forth.

"It okay De." Sammy soothed. "Peas no cry … Daddy come … He will … Peas no cry, De … I yove you."

Dang it, this kid was making it worse! Pushing back, Dean forced himself to get a hold of himself and give Sammy a small smile.

"Thanks."

"De?"

"Yeah?" Dean asked, wiping the last of the tears from his eyes.

"Can Sammy pway for Daddy?"

Dean was surprised at the request. When did Sammy learn how o pray? It wasn't something either John or Dean did … ever … so where?

"Pas'ta Jeem pway." Sammy explained. "Say it heps."

Well, that made since. Dean didn't really believe in God after his Mom died, but if it made Sammy feel better …

"Okay, Sammy, you can pray for Dad."

immediately, Sammy clasped his chubby fingers together an squeezed his eyes shut.

"De'r God, bwing Daddy back. A-mem."

"Amen." Dean agreed, motioning his brother to lay back down. "I bet Pastor Jim would be happy you remembered how to pray."

"Uh-huh." Sammy smiled, curling up next to his big brother.

Spreading the make-shift blanket over the two of them, Dean settled in for the night and closed his eyes. Dad should find them in the morning, all he had to do was go to sleep and wait for it to come. Yawning, the seven year old realized just how tiered he was and started to doze off.

"De?" Sammy's voice called him back from the brink of sleep.

"Yeah?"

"You think … you think pwaying heps?"

"Sure, Sammy."

"Okay … De?"

"Yeah?"

"Is Daddy pwaying?"

"I don't know, maybe."

"Okay … De?"

"What?"

"Um … can Sammy have cookies now?"

* * *

Remember, I did warn you. ;)

The next chapter will be up fairly soon, so please let me know what you think.


	16. Chapter 16

Okay, so I know I said I would finish this story a long time ago, but family drama coupled with ineffective anxiety medication made it nearly impossible to write.

Anyway, this chapter was requested, so here you go ...

**

* * *

Chapter 16**

John kept a quick pace down the dark city streets. His boys were out here somewhere and he wasn't going to rest until he found them. Coming to a "T" shaped intersection, John looked left and right, but neither way gave any clue as to which way his children might have gone.

"D^%$ it." He growled, running a hand over his face.

This was their last shot and it was getting them nowhere.

"Calm down, John." Bobby said, for what felt like the hundredth time. "We made it this far. Let's ask around and see if anyone saw the boys."

Not wanting to stray far from the trail, John reluctantly agreed to head into a nearby convenience store to grab some coffee. It was after midnight and there was still no sign of his kids anywhere. If he didn't find them soon …

"You're a cop?"

The exclamation pulled him from his thoughts and he looked over to see his friend putting away his badge.

"You sound surprised." Bobby said dryly.

"No, I mean, I haven't even called you yet." The clerk said, giving the phone a puzzled glance. "Doesn't matter, anyway, how young do you prosecute?"

"What?" Now it was Bobby's turn to be puzzled.

"I mean, if the thief is a little kid, say … six or seven, would you prosecute?"

John's breath caught in his throat. It could be just a coincidence, or it could be Dean.

"And I'm not talking about taking a candy bar or something like that." The clerk continued, as if sensing that he was wasting bobby's time. "This kid took first aid supplies, food, bottled water, you know, stuff he would really need."

Alright, this didn't sound like your average seven year old, and Dean was NOT your average seven year old. John headed away from the coffee station and towards the counter, hoping that it wasn't another dead end.

"What did he look like?" He demanded, trying his best to keep the emotion out of his voice.

"And you are … ?"

"My partner." Bobby stated. "Answer the question."

"Um … three and a half to four feet tall, short brown hair, freckles, oversized guns and roses t-shirt, walked with a slight limp, … that's all I remember."

He didn't know where the t-shirt or the limp came from, but that defiantly sounded like Dean.

"What about the other one?" Bobby questioned.

"Other one?" The clerk blinked. "There was only him."

John was sure his heart stopped for a second. Either there was some other kid out there who looked like Dean and had desperate need of survival supplies, or something had happened to his baby.

"Did you see which way they went?" Bobby asked, the anxiety in his voice clear.

"He took a left when he walked out the door, I didn't see anything beyond that." The clerk took a deep breath. "Look, I know you are just trying to do your job, but he's just a kid and obviously in a tough spot. I mean, if the stuff he took hadn't added up to almost thirty dollars, I wouldn't have even talked to you. Even so, don't you think we could cut him some slack?"

"We'll see what we can do." Bobby answered. "Do you remember anything else about the kid?"

"No, sorry." He shook his head. "but my cousin might. He and his friends came running in here right after he left going on and on about a big gun some little guy had."

"Where can we find them?" John inquired, forcing himself to stay calm.

"Well, they were scaring the customers with their gun talk, so I had to kick them out, but you can probably find them on the corner by my grandma's apartment."

Following the directions from the clerk, John and bobby son found a group of boys handing around a street light smoking, drinking, and just being generally stupid teenagers. The second Bobby flashed his badge the beers vanished and the boys went on the defensive.

"What do you want?" The obvious leader asked. "We ain't doing nothing."

Rather then point out the double negative, or shove his hidden bottle down his throat, John stepped back and let bobby do the talking.

"We are looking for a little kid, just under four feet tall, last seen wearing a guns and roses t-shirt. Have you seen him?"

One boy, the clerk's cousin by the look of it, opened his mouth, but closed it again when one of his buddies elbowed him in the stomach.

"We ain't seen nothing." The leader insisted.

"Oh, so he DIDN'T pull a gun on you?"

The leader shifted nervously, but stood his ground.

"Like I said cop." He shrugged. "We ain't seen nothing."

To h&*% with this, John thought to himself. He stepped past Bobby, grabbed the leader by the lapels of his jacket, and slammed him into the nearest wall.

"I am through being patient." He hissed. "That boy is my son and if you don't tell me everything you know, the next ten seconds, you will not live long enough to have one of your own."

* * *

What do you think?

Let me know and I will get the next part up just as soon as I can.


	17. Chapter 17

Sorry for the delay on this, but I was either away from my computer or without internet most of the weekend. (Seriously, I went to post this and the internet crashed.)

Anyway, enjoy ...

**

* * *

Chapter 17**

Dean shifted in his sleep, trying to ignore the small squeaks and scratches coming from nearby. He felt something tickle his foot and he pulled back.

"Sammy stop." He murmured, but it happened again. "Quit it!"

He kicked out and immediately felt a piercing pain on his ankle. Crying out, Dean shot up and looked around in horror. Rats. At least a dozen of the things were tearing into their makeshift food bag, crumbs and wrappers were scattered around their feet.

"De!" Sammy shrieked, clinging to his arm. "Scary!"

Terrified as he was with the huge rodents surrounding him, Dean pushed back his fear. He could be scared later, right now he had to help his baby brother.

"Stay back." He ordered, as John-like as he could.

He shoved Sammy back into the overturned pulpit and turned toward the rats. He didn't want to get close to them, but he had to try and get their food back. Otherwise, they would have nothing to eat until Dad got there.

"Go away!" He yelled, kicking the nearest rat in the side and sending it flying into the pews.

The other rats hissed, glaring at the youngster. Dean swallowed nervously, but hearing Sammy crying behind him reminded him that he had to be brave, be like Dad.

"I said go away!" He rushed forward, hoping to scare the rats away from their stuff.

Unfortunately, the rats weren't startled so easily and got defensive, biting at his feet and legs. Unable to kick them all, Dean grabbed the gun and shot two of the rats. When some rau from the noise, he took out three more and wounded two. Bleeding and hissing, the two came at him, but he shot them again. Once all the vermin were dead or gone, Dean lowered the gun and let out a shaky breath.

"De?" Sammy whimpered.

"It's okay now, they're gone." Dean cooed, wrapping his arms around the little guy. "All gone."

"De owie?"

He looked down at the blood running down his legs and forced a smile.

"I'll be okay. I just need a band-aid."

Setting the gun aside, Dean pulled out the box of bandages and let Sammy help him stick them over the cuts. When they were done, there was only two band-aids left. Crap. If Dad didn't find them soon, he was going to have to go back out for more supplies.

"Ah better?"

"Yeah, I'm all better." Dean grinned, ruffling Sammy's hair.

The toddler smiled back and hugged Dean's waist.

"Good. Sammy no like De have owies."

"Yeah, well I don't like having them." Dean replied, tucking his brother back into the pulpit.

He looked over the ruins of the t-shirt bag and all the destroyed food. They had got into everything except the apple juice, water, and some of the crackers. It was official, he hated rats for life.

"Hey little boy," came a gravely voice from behind him, "you lost?"

Dean whipped around to see a couple of men in dirty coats that smelled like beer. He took a small step back, glancing to the side to make sure Sammy was still hidden.

"You didn't answer my question." He man said with a creepy smile. "Are you lost?"

No." Dean said, reminding himself once again to be brave like Dad.

"Oh really?" the other sneered. "Then what ya doing in old St. Andrews?"

"None of your business."

"De?"

Dean sucked in his breath and looked over to see his baby brother sticking his head out from behind their makeshift curtain.

"Who ya talkin' to?"

"Why, ain't you a cute little one?" The guy with the creepy smile said sweetly.

"Back off." Dean growled.

"And what if we don't want to?" The other asked, stepping forward.

"De, Sammy no like them." Sammy whispered. "Make 'em go away."

"Oh, De ain't gonna make us go anywhere." The first one grin, moving towards the pulpit.

"My name is Dean." The little boy corrected, raising his gun. "And your name is gonna be dead if you move any closer to my brother."

"I bet that thing ain't even loaded." The second guy scoffed.

He pulled the trigger, but only heard a click.

"See?" The scoffer grinned. "What did I tell you?"

The second guy advanced towards him and Dean knew he had to take him out so he could save Sammy. With no other options, he threw the gun as hard as he could, hitting the man right in the face.

"GAH! MY NOSE!" The man's muffled screams filled the air, as he covered his bloody face with his hands. "YOU LITTLE BRAT! I'M GONNA KILL YOU!"

Ignoring his attacker for a moment, Dean looked over when he heard someone else scream.

"DE! HEP!"

"Sammy!" Dean cried, rushing toward the man who was dragging his brother out of the pulpit by his leg. "Let him go, you son of a b^%&$!"

He was almost to them, when something wrapped around his ankle and he went face first into the floor.

"You're one dead kid!" The second man hissed, pulling Dean farther away from his wailing sibling.

"You got that one, Hal?" The first guy asked, pinning Sammy to his chest.

"Yeah Carl, I'll meet you at the van." He grunted, trying to catch Dean's other foot before he added a busted lip to his already damaged face.

"NO!" Dean yelled, pulling with all his might. "LET HM GO!"

Carl only laughed and carried Sammy away, his cries echoing through the empty halls. Dean struggled, but only got pulled farther from where they disappeared.

"Give Sammy back!" He demanded, twisting around toward his attacker. "NOW!"

"Yeah right, with a face like that? You know how much that kid is worth?"

Dean doubted Hal had any idea what Sammy was worth. He was worth everything in the world, and after everything he had done to keep him safe, Dean was NOT going to lose him now. Managing to wrap his hand around a brick, he threw it hard and it hit Hal right between the eyes. The hold loosened, as the attacker fell to the floor in a moaning heap.

"I don't care what you say." Dean growled, grabbing a piece of wood. "You can't have MY BROTHER!"

He slammed the wood down and Hal stopped moving. Without checking to see if he was dead or not, Dean picked up the brick in one hand and went after Carl. He could still hear Sammy's sobs and pleas as the bad man carried him off, but he couldn't tell how far away they were or what hallway the went down. Stupid empty church, why did it have to bee so big? Suddenly he saw something, a shadow moving behind one of the windows. Taking a deep breath, Dean raised the brick and threw it towards the shadow. The window shattered and he heard a grunt as his makeshift weapon made contact, but then he saw a gun and the face of the man who held it.

"Dad!" He called out, just as the weapon fired.

* * *

So? Do you like it? Hate it? Are you lighting the torches and sharpening the pitch forks to come after me for leaving you hanging?

Let me know and I will get the next part up just as soon as I can. (Only three chapters left. :) )


	18. Chapter 18

First things first ...

**HAPPY VETERAN'S DAY!**

**_And a big thank you to all who serve, wherever you may be._**

**_(Especially my fellow sailors out there. Hooya Navy!)_**

Okay then, this part is a little short but, after the way I ended the last chapter, I didn't feel like leaving you hanging any longer.

I hope you like it ...

**

* * *

Chapter 18**

John sucked in his breath, feeling as if his heart had stopped. He was already squeezing the trigger when he heard Dean's voice. Thank God he had good enough reflexes to tilt the gun at the last second so that the bullet flew harmlessly over the boy's head. Even so, he still found it hard to breath. He had just shot at his son, almost killed Mary's first baby.

"I-I'm sorry D-Dad." Dean stammered, clearly fighting back tears. "I-I didn't-"

Finally getting a hold on himself, John quickly climbed through the broken window and wrapped his arms around the trembling seven year old.

"It's okay, Dean." He whispered. "I'm here now, everything is okay."

"No!" Dean started to squirm out of his grasp. "It's not okay! They took Sammy!"

Now John was sure his heart had stopped.

"Who did?" Bobby questioned.

"Carl." Dean answered with tears in his eyes. "I tried to stop him, but Hal grabbed my leg. He was crying, Dad. Sammy was crying and I couldn't help him!"

"Which way?" John demanded.

As soon as Dean pointed out where to go, John handed him off to Bobby and raced down the hallway. He had already lost his sons once, and he would be d%$^ed if he did it again.

"Let go!" A small voice wailed from up ahead. "Want De! Not you!"

"Shut up, kid!"

There was the unmistakable sound of flesh striking flesh and the crying intensified. At that point all John saw was red and he ran faster through the darkened building. He emerged from the church just in time to see a man shoving his baby into a sack and putting the sobbing bundle in the back of a van.

"Hey!" He shouted, startling the kidnapper.

"Just walk away man." Carl said in a low tone, shutting the van doors. "This doesn't concern you."

"Oh, I think it does." John replied in a menacing whisper.

He stepped forward and plowed his fist into the guy's face. Before the b*s%a$d had a chance to recover from the blow, the hunter kneed him in the stomach causing him to double over. Gasping for the air that had been forced out of him, Carl was unable to fight back as John let out an entire night's worth of frustration and rage on the lowlife.

"What do you want?" The man croaked, blood running down his chin.

John grabbed the kidnapper by the lapels of his jacket and pined him to the vehicle, pressing the barrel of his gun against the man's temple.

"I want my son out of that van, you piece of s&%#."

Realization and fear filled Carl's eyes, but before he could start begging for mercy another whimper reached Johns ears.

"P-Peas, let Sammy g-go." The tiny voice sobbed. "Peas. Sam-my b-b-be good. P-Peas let g-go. Want De. W-Want Daddy. Peas-s-s."

Despite his strong desire to put a bullet in the guy's brain for daring to touch his boys, John dropped the sniveling excuse for a man to the ground and opened up the back of the van. Quickly untying the top of the sack, John couldn't open it fast enough. There was his little baby, bandaged and bruised, gazing up at him with those beautiful puppy dog eyes that John couldn't live without.

"D-Daddy?" He asked, the fear slowly fading from his angelic face.

"Yeah, Sammy." He responded, pulling the toddler into his arms. "Daddy's here."

"Daddy!" He cried, clinging to his neck. "You comed! De said you come and you comed!"

"I'll always come for you, Sammy." He whispered into the boy's chocolate curls. "Always."

Suddenly, Sammy pushed back to look him in the eye.

"De!" He shrieked. "The bad man hurt De! Hep De, Daddy! Gotta hep De!"

"Shh, it's okay." John soothed, tucking his son's head back against his shoulder and rocking him gently. "Dean is fine. Bobby is with him. He is just fine."

"Prwamiss?"

"Yeah, I promise."

Sammy nodded and snuggled deeper into John's shoulder.

"I yove you, Daddy."

"I love you too." He whispered back.

Turning around, John headed back towards the church, his boot crushing Carl's fingers as he past by and causing the man to cry out in pain.

"What that?" Sammy asked, lifting his head to look around.

"It's nothing," John replied, gently guiding the mop of curls back down so he wouldn't see the guy moaning on the ground, "just the trash."

"Trash can yell?" The two year old questioned, his head popping back up to give his dad a surprised look.

"Yup." John answered, giving Carl a quick glare. "It sure can."

With that, he carried his baby back inside, eager to have his family all together again.

* * *

So? How did you like Carl's lesson on why it is a bad idea to touch the youngest Winchester?

On that note, I had another question. Would anyone like to see John get five minutes alone with the pedophile from chapter nine? Yes? No? Maybe?

Let me know about that, as well as how you liked the chapter, and I will get started on the next one as soon as I can. :)


	19. Chapter 19

Once again, I apologize for the delay. (Been without internet access for a while.)

Also, I'm sorry this part is so short, but I didn't want to keep you waiting any longer.

Here ya go ...

**

* * *

Chapter 19**

"I'm-m-m s-s-sor-ry, B-Bob-by-y." Dean sobbed into the hunter's shoulder. "I t-tried to pro-pro-t-tect S-Sam-my, I-I r-r-rea-ly t-ri-ed."

"Ssshh." Bobby soothed, rubbing circles into the little boy's back. "You did good. Just calm down. It's okay, son."

"No." Dean sniffed, taking a deep breath. "I d-didn't stop th-th-them."

"You stopped the werewolf." The older man pointed out. "And the man in the ally."

"But w-what good is all that if I still l-lost him?" Dean dropped his gaze to the floor.

"Ya didn't loose him." Bobby smiled, pointing down the hallway.

Dean turned, his eyes lighting up at the sight before him.

"Sammy!" He cried running toward his family.

"De!" Sammy squealed, reaching out to him with one arm, while the other clung firmly to John's shirt collar.

"Are you okay?" Dean asked, cupping his brother's face and wiping away the tear tracks. "Did he hurt you?"

Sammy smiled up at John before turning back to Dean.

"Better than okay." He stated. "We ALL t'gether now."

"That's right, Sammy." John agreed, settling on a pew and motioning for Dean to climb up next to him. "And this time, we are staying together."

"No more Lisa?" Sammy asked curiously.

"No more Lisa." Their dad confirmed.

"But De LIKED Lisa, Daddy." Sammy informed him. "She do ev'ryting De says."

"Really?"

"Uh-huh. She buy cookies and peanut em-nems and let him watch movies and only De gives us tubbies."

Dean could feel John's eyes on him as he sunk deeper into his side, avoiding eye contact and hoping that his baby brother would find a new subject to talk about.

"Oh, De." Sam said excitedly, tugging on his arm. "Did you know trash can yell?"

"Trash can what?" Bobby asked, clearly as puzzled as Dean.

"It can." Sam told their honorary uncle. "Daddy made it yell, lots and lots."

"Dad?" Dean gave him a confused look. "You can make trash yell?"

"Sure can." John responded, flexing his busted knuckles. "Lots and lots."

Oh THAT trash, Dean thought with a smile. Go Dad. Looks like both of those punks learned what happens to people who make Sammy cry.

"I made the trash yell too." The seven year old stated.

"I know." John smiled. "You did good, Dean."

The little boy beamed at his dad's praise. Bobby was right, he was proud of him.

"Can Sammy make trash yell too?"

"Maybe when you are bigger." John replied.

"Bigger as De?"

"Come on Sammy," Dean scoffed, "you'll never be bigger as me."

"Will too." The toddler scowled. "Sammy be way bigger then De."

"Never gonna happen, runt." Dean shook his head. "Big brothers are always taller."

"Nu-uh." Sammy shot back. "Bo bigger den Luke."

"They aren't even brothers."

"Are too. Theys Dukes."

"They're cousins."

"Same ting."

"No it's not."

"Is too."

"Is not!"

"Is too!"

"Okay," John cut in, sanding up with Sammy, "time to go."

Dean nodded, and took his father's hand, looking up to where his baby brother was peeking over the big man's shoulder.

"Is not." He hissed quietly.

"Is-"

"That's enough."

Even though his tone was more gentle then usual, the two boys snapped their mouths shut, not wanting to risk making their dad mad right after they found him. Minutes later, settled in the back seat of the Impala with his baby brother in his arms, Dean relaxed against the seat and listened to the soothing sound of the engine as they drove into the night. No more monsters, no more creepy men, no more danger. They were okay now, they were home.

* * *

What do you think?

Let me know and I will try to get the next, and final, chapter of this story posted before I go to bed tonight.


	20. Chapter 20

Here it is, the last chapter. Thank you to all of you who stuck with me and all the rest who joined me along the way.

I hope you enjoy the conclusion ...

**

* * *

Chapter 20**

John slipped out of the locker room, tugging on the too short sleeves of the long white coat. Luckily the doctor who owned it wasn't that much smaller than him, so it was hardly noticeable. Grabbing a random chart from the nurses station, John made his way down the hall, no one giving him a second look. So far so good. Reaching the door, he took a deep breath, forcing back his emotions as he entered the room.

"About time someone got here." The patient grumbled from the bed. "I asked for stronger meds almost an hour ago."

"Sorry for the wait, Mr. Riggs." John responded, closing the door behind him.

He set the chart down on the counter and went into the bathroom, grabbing a small towel from beside the sink. It took everything in him not to wrap it around the pervert's neck and choke the life out of him, but that would be more trouble then he was worth. More then satisfying, but trouble.

"Hey, did the cops ever catch that little b%s&a$d that shot me?"

"No, but they found his dad." John responded, balling up the terry cloth fabric.

"Good." Riggs snapped. "That idiot needs to teach his brat gun control."

"Oh, trust me," John turned towards the pedophile, "I intend to."

He saw a split second of revelation right before Riggs opened his mouth to yell for help, but the balled up towel muffled any sound that may have come out. After tossing the call button to the floor, John slammed his fist into the man's head a couple times, being careful to leave him conscious.

"Those where my sons, you son of a b^*&#$." He hissed, grabbing the front of his hospital gown to pull him up. "MY sons. That fact alone is enough reason for me to put a bullet in your head."

John pulled his gun from where and pressed it against Riggs' forehead. The pervert whimpered, tears forming in his fear filled eyes.

"Lucky for you," John continued, lowering the weapon, "your death would just send the cops after me, and I don't feel like dealing with them."

After letting the b^s*a%d have a moment of relief, the hunter started to dig the barrel into the healing wound. The man bucked and squirmed, screaming against his gag, but John's grip held him firmly in place.

"I just wanted to let you know, if you ever go near another little boy, and I find out about it, you'll wish I killed you. Got it?"

Adding a little more pressure, he waited until the guy nodded before putting away his gun.

"Glad we understand each other." John smiled, patting his shoulder. "Now all we need to do is explain how you ripped your stitches."

Moving to the side of the bed, he grabbed Riggs and threw him to the floor, before grabbing the gag out of his mouth. Immediately, the man began to howl in pain as John headed for the door.

"You know, you really shouldn't try walking after a gun shot wound." He commented on his way out. "You might hurt yourself."

Letting the nurses take care of Riggs, John headed out to where he had left Bobby's truck. Going a little faster then necessary, the hunter made his way back to his new hotel, eager to see his boys again. He had barely been gone an hour, but after last night a minute was to long to have them out of his sight.

"Daddy!" Sammy squealed the second he opened the door, run towards him.

"Hey Sammy." He smiled, scooping his baby boy up in his arms.

"Did you get everything, Dad?" Dean asked, leaning over the back of the couch.

"Everything worth getting." John answered, dropping his toddler on the cushion next to his oldest. "Here are your keys Bobby."

"Run into any trouble?" He friend questioned.

"Why would here be any trouble?"

By the look on his face, John could tell that Bobby knew about the social call he gave Sammy's attacker, but he didn't say anything about it.

"Well, I better get back to the yard." The other hunter muttered as he gathered up his duffel. "If you need me, ya know where to find me."

"Thanks Bobby … for everything."

"Don't get all sentimental on me, ya idjit, just take care of those boys of yours."

Turning away, he got a double hug from the kids before heading out the door.

"We gonna leave too, Dad?" Dean asked, staring up at him with wide green eyes.

John just smiled and settled himself on the couch between the boys.

"No, I think we can stick around for a bit longer."

"T'gether?"Sammy asked, climbing up on the big man's lap.

"That's right." John said, wrapping his arms around his children. "Together."

* * *

There you have it, John got a few minutes with the pedophile and they all had a happy ending ... except Riggs.

So, what did you think?


End file.
